


An Inventor and His Dog

by anotherfngrl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Veterinarians, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Dogs, M/M, Robot Feels, Robots, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Veterinary Clinic, Veterinary Medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl
Summary: You bring dogs to vets, right? So that's what Tony Stark does. Except his dog is a robot. It's meant to be a test of how realistic the robotic dog is. He doesn't anticipate the vet.Steve Rogers is a vet with a heart of gold, even if his best friend Bucky thinks he's too trusting. Especially when he starts falling for the inventor who brings in his robotic dog.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	An Inventor and His Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Somebody on Tumblr wanted a vet!AU where they kept bringing the animal in to see the vet, and it gave me IDEAS. So here we go! Let me know what you think.

It’s the end of a very long day, which began with a 5AM emergency surgery, when it happens. That’s Steve’s only excuse later, for why it took him so long to catch on. It  _ definitely _ wasn’t because the dog’s owner had such an adorable, impish smile he’d been thoroughly distracted.

Yes, that’s Steve’s story and he’s sticking to it.

His story for how he became the vet that treated the robotic dog.

It starts like any other consultation with a new client. He comes in and the dog, an adorable Golden Retriever, is already on the exam table, his owner standing nearby, petting him.

The dog had been lying down, basking in getting pets and seemingly unconcerned by being at the vet, but he stands on the table when Steve walks in.

“Well, who do we have here? Angus?” he says, checking the intake form and walking up to the dog. Angus’ tail wags, and Steve pets him carefully.

“What seems to be the trouble today, Angus?” he asks.

“He got into some coffee, and I was worried what effect it might have,” the owner says.

Steve immediately goes into high alert. “How much? Coffee can be toxic for dogs. How long ago was this?” he asks.

“A few days,” the owner says, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “He’s seemed fine. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Bring him in  _ immediately _ next time,” Steve says, censure clear in his tone.

The man looks surprised. “Yeah. Of course. Immediately. I will.”

“If we’re outside of hours, I’ll give you my cell number. Call me. Time is of the essence, with things like this. And  _ don’t _ leave coffee out where he can get it,” he instructs.

The man looks startled again. “Yeah, um, that’s not gonna work. There’s coffee like, everywhere in my workshop.” Given how sleep deprived he looks, Steve believes it.

“Then keep him out of the workshop, or get a gate and give him an area to play in that’s safe. Dogs don’t know what’s bad for them, they eat whatever they can get,” Steve explains.

“I’ll work on that,” the owner promises.

Steve makes himself relax. “Okay. Good. Here’s my number,” he says, taking one of his business cards from the counter and scribbling his cell number on the back. “And what’s your name, so I’ll know who you are if you call?”

“Do you have more than one patient named Angus?” the man asks curiously.

Steve shakes his head, laughing. “No. Actually, you’re the only person who’s ever brought in a dog named after a cut of beef. Which reminds me, I didn’t get lunch. I’m starving.”

“He’s named after the lead singer of AC/DC, actually,” the man says. “Oh, and, uh, my name’s Tony.”

He holds out his hand, and Steve shakes it. He likes Tony, and takes a minute to look him over as they shake hands- he’s got a firm grip, and calloused hands. There’s some kind of oil under his fingernails, though they’re neatly trimmed. He’s wearing a rumpled rock band t-shirt, converse, and jeans that look like something’s sparked near him- they’ve got oil on them, too, plus places that remind him of when his best friend Bucky has been welding. Looks like that workshop is more than a hobby.

Now he’s curious. And, if he’s honest, he wants to get to know this handsome stranger better. “What do you make?” he asks.

“Uh, what?” Tony says.

“In your workshop?” Steve reminds him.

“Oh, uh, lots of things. Robots,” Tony explains.

Steve nods. “Cool,” he says.

“I also like to work on um, transportation?” Tony says.

“My best friend’s a mechanic,” Steve says, latching on to the commonality. “What kinds of robots do you make?”

“Good ones,” Tony says.

Steve laughs. “Of course. Well, I guess I should actually examine Angus. Just to make sure he’s doing okay, since he’s here.”

Angus has been remarkably chill, laying back down on the exam table. Steve pets him gently, not wanting to spook him, then feels his nose. It’s dry, which is worrying. He takes out a penlight to check Angus’ eyes. His pupils are reactive, but something about them strikes Steve as odd.

Something’s not right, but he can’t put his finger on what, yet. He takes a training treat out of his pocket, to entice Angus to open his mouth.

When he does, Steve realizes his tongue isn’t wet, either. “I think he may be dehydrated,” he says.

Tony smirks, like he’s trying not to laugh. Steve glares at him. “This isn’t funny, Tony. He could have kidney damage from the coffee.”

Tony doubles over laughing. Steve stands fully upright to glare at him, crossing his arms disapprovingly.

The dark haired man holds up a hand. “Sorry. Sorry. Give me a second,” he says, wiping the tears from his eyes as he gets his laughter under control. Steve is starting to like him a lot less, if this is his reaction to his dog potentially being sick.

“Kidney damage is serious, Tony,” he lectures.

“I’m sure it is,” Tony tells him. “But Angus doesn’t have kidneys. He’s fine, I promise you.”

Now Steve is confused- and alarmed. “Animals have kidneys just like humans,” he insists.

“Living ones do,” Tony tells him, still grinning.

“He’s alive. He’s moving around,” Steve points out. He pets Angus, wanting to reassure him that everything’s okay, even if his dad’s crazy, and the dog’s tail wags.

“He’s a  _ robot,” _ Tony announces.

Steve stares. “He isn’t.”

“He absolutely is. He’s not dehydrated, I just didn’t add a function for spit or drool, or any liquids, really. Didn’t really think about how big of a giveaway that would be. I might need to rethink it,” Tony says. “It’d be fussy, keeping the fake spit from messing up any of the mechanics, but maybe worth it for the realism. Then he could lick. Except it might be better to train him to lick and  _ not _ get slobber everywhere, even synthetic slobber. Maybe I can find a material for his tongue that  _ feels _ wet but isn’t. And his nose. This is great, thank you so much.”

The smaller man is talking faster than Steve can think. “Did you just say you’re going to train him? I thought he was a robot?” he asks.

“He’s a rudimentary AI. Well, not so rudimentary. But he’s still a work in progress. Do you notice he hasn’t made a sound? I’m not happy with the voice protocols yet, I knew they’d give us away. Angus, unmute. Speak, boy!” Tony says.

The… robotic dog… Steve can’t believe he’s even thinking that…. barks. “Sounds fine to me,” Steve says.

“He’s fine when I command him to speak. But I’m not happy with the sound selection process. Dogs’ sounds aren’t entirely logical, so it’s been hard to figure out how to train him to mimic them. Some dogs growl when they want to play, but he’s only got one growl right now, so he sounds angry. I need to consult with some audio people, I think,” Tony says.

“To give your robotic dog a more realistic vocabulary,” Steve says slowly.

“That makes it sound like he’s going to speak English. That’s not the plan- that’d be much easier, I’ve already got an AI coded who speaks English,  _ with _ an English accent. But teaching a robot to communicate in a language I don’t speak and can’t learn is tricky,” Tony explains.

“Dogs make sense, once you listen to them,” Steve assures him.

Tony shrugs. “Wouldn’t know. Angus is my first pet,” he says.

“You made yourself a robotic dog instead of adopting one from a shelter?” Steve asks.

“Yeah. I travel a lot, for work. And sometimes what I do makes me kind of a target. I didn’t want to put an innocent animal in the middle of that. So, robot dog! Pretty impressive, right?” Tony says.

“Very impressive,” Steve tells him. Tony lights up under the praise. “He  _ moves _ so naturally. And now that I know he’s not real, I still can’t really tell when I touch him. I’d expect a robot to be cold.”

“I thought of that, I’ve got a gel layer under the fur, with heat moving through it from the excess created by the mechanics. Simulates a fat layer, makes the texture more realistic, and deals with the temperature issue,” Tony says proudly.

“And so it doesn’t overheat?” Steve asks. He’s curious, now.

“Just like a regular dog, he pants. Except he’s got an exhaust system going,” Tony reveals. His smile is impish. Steve is captivated- by the man, and his strange creation.

“This is really amazing,” he says.

Tony looks down, suddenly a little less brash. “Thanks.”

“Even if you did take up an appointment slot just to what? Trick me?” Steve asks.

“Field testing,” Tony says. “He fools people when I take him on walks, but they don’t do more than quickly pet him, and they’re not trained professionals. I wanted to see what problems a vet would find in the design- and you did! I hadn’t thought about failing to include saliva giving it away. But I do think I’m going to focus on a material that feels wet, rather than introducing liquids, just from an ‘ick’ perspective. I don’t want him getting my face slobbery,”

“That’s a good point. And no doggy breath. He smells nicer than real dogs,” Steve points out.

“Two advantages I’m quite fond of,” Tony agrees. “Well, Doc, I should get out of your hair.”

He lifts the robotic dog to the floor with every bit as much care as Steve has ever seen an owner take, petting Angus’ snout once he’s on the ground. Steve is charmed, despite the subterfuge. “If, um, you ever have a real dog that needs anything, feel free to come by. Or, you know, if Angus gets so advanced he needs a regular vet,” Steve offers.

“Will do, Doc,” Tony tells him. “Come, Angus,” he says, and they walk out together: the inventor and the robotic dog.

Steve shakes his head, and goes to see his next patient.


End file.
